


Broken Memories

by Rising_Phoenix



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, Clothes, F/M, Food, Forgetting, Memories, Orders, Pills, Soup, Water, glass, headache, life - Freeform, nice, saved - Freeform, sleeping, tired, wound
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 19:06:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9917264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rising_Phoenix/pseuds/Rising_Phoenix
Summary: After waking up in a bed wounded with amnesia, you place your trust in and grow a bond with the stranger responsible for taking you in. But once your memory gradually starts to return, you come to remember bits and pieces of how you got wounded and the true nature of the not-so-good Samaritan.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Work title may change
> 
> *Discontinued for the time being*

Head pounds heavy like a ton of bricks as translucent eyelids slowly crack open, intense white light shining bright, damaging on y/e/c colored eyes.

“Hey” A rough voice whispers ever so softly beside me “You’re up”

Slowly I turn my head to witness a manly figure, my eyes immediately connecting with his brown ones. His rosy lips, accentuated by a finely trimmed salt and peppered beard, smile down at me.

“Who are you?” I question with a dry, cracking voice, slight panic running through my body “Where am I?” my head turning, taking in my surroundings

“You-” The gentleman raises his hand to me but I flinch away “I’m sorry” he apologizes “I was just going to remove the hair from your eyes”

“Who are you?” I repeat trying to sit up, dizziness kicking in, my hand landing on my forehead feeling the bandage over what I assumed to be a bloody wound

“I’m Negan” the gentleman with the flashy white smile introduces himself

“Negan” I speak his name with a weak voice “What happened to me?”

“I don’t know specifics” Negan shakes his head “I just came across you knocked out in the middle of the woods and brought you back here, to my sanctuary” his rough but gentle hands land on my shoulders helping me to sit up and lean against the headboard “Do you remember anything at all?”

I furrow my brows in thought “No” my head shakes “I can’t remember anything”

“Nothing?” Negan inquires reassuringly

“No” I shake my head “Who am I, what is my name?”

“I don’t know sweetheart” Negan admits “I just call you beautiful” his pools of brown orbs landing on my breasts

I raise my hand tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, my mouth eliciting a harsh cough “I’m sorry” I beg pardon, my hand patting on my chest “May I have a glass of water?”

“Of course” Negan extends his arm towards the nightstand grabbing the glass of water, handing it to me

My digits wrap around the glass bringing the rim up to my lips, the clear, cool liquid smoothly sliding down my throat, quenching my thirst “Thank you” I convey with a smile as I hand the glass back to him “You wouldn’t, by any chance, happen to know how I got this head wound, would you?”

“No, I don’t doll, I’m sorry. All I know is you suffered a concussion and clearly have amnesia”

“And a pounding headache” I add, the palm of my hand rubbing along my forehead

Negan reaches and grabs a bottle of Excedrin from the nightstand “Would you like some aspirin for it?”

I nod, Negan twisting off the top, handing me two pills and the glass of water, the pills a pain to swallow with ease

“Thank you” I lay the glass with a clink back on the nightstand, my focus planted on the man before me “Why did you save me, bring me here?”

“Because-” Negan raises his hand running it over his beard “If I didn’t, I would just grow to later regret it, torturing myself, constantly wondering about you”

“That sounds both sweet and creepy at the same time” I mutter half-jokingly with half a smile “But thank you”

“Of course” Negan turns his head towards the knocking at the door “Come in”

The door swings open, in stepping a defeated looking male with disheveled brown hair wearing seemingly old attire marked with a large orange letter ‘A’ in the center of his chest, his hands carrying a bowl of chunky potato soup. Another individual, a blonde haired male with a half burned face, stands behind him.   

“Well god damn, about fucking time!” Negan exclaims “Give me the fucking bowl”

The brown haired male remains stagnant like a statue staring intently at me, acting like he just witnessed a ghost, his soft orbs sad like that of a puppy dog “Y/-”

“Are you deaf?” The blonde haired male rudely pushes the man forward, snapping him out of his trance “Hand Negan the bowl”

Annoyed, the brown haired male does as instructed, extending his arms towards Negan, not once breaking his stare away from my features, making me feel tense, uneasy  
  
“Thank you asshole” Negan accepts the bowl, waving them away, the men stepping out shutting the door behind them

“Are you hungry?”

“Wh-who was that man with the brown hair?” I question, ignoring Negan’s original question

“My helper” his voice husky “Are you hungry?” he questions for a second time

“What is his name?”

Negan grits his teeth, annoyed “Daryl”

“And the blonde haired one?”

“Dwight, also a helper” he places the bowl on my lap “Now eat, and then sleep. No more questions”


End file.
